Friday flash fiction – The Antlion’s Nest and the Magpie Stratagem

The official cartographic record of the SPF Destroyer Queen Ranavalona referred to the thick
band of icy, dusty rocks as Asteroid Belt KFPK-9, but when someone dubbed it
“The Antlion’s Nest”, the name stuck.

https://pixabay.com/en/wormhole-time-travel-portal-vortex-2514312/

It was, decided Captain Herrea Talakhamani, an excellent
place from which to watch and wait for prey.

“Summary reports, please,” she said as her senior officers sat for morning briefing. She hoped her bright tone concealed how rattled she felt by both the blazing conflicts outside the hull and the Captain’s-eyes-only dispatch from Fleet Admiralty.

“A quick overview, Captain.” First Officer Gaia Renshaw stood, waving her hands through a holographic map of the Kettery system. She highlighted the pocket of space around the Queen Ranavalona. “The Cha’sorva pursuit squadron knows we’re here, obviously, but their scanner technology can’t break our Bittik-Kintti chaff field. They dispersed into a search-and-destroy configuration shortly after arriving in-system. Big mistake. It left them completely exposed when the Sanxescene warp cruiser opened a gravity slide near the fourth planet.”

Strategic Operations Commander Nelson Quay added, “The
Sanxescenes have vaporised half the Cha’sorva ships with quantum tunnelling
missiles.” Giving the appearance he too had not slept for days, he mopped his
forehead with agitated swipes. “All this activity has attracted attention.
We’ve detected Fidimisi surveillance drones in the system fringes, the Gulthano
Centerium sent a warteam of Sybil-class corvettes, and in the last hour we’ve
spotted a Praeternaturalist Godship lurking in Kettery’s solar corona.”

A ragged crack opened in the Jomokoro engineer’s granite-like
face; Talakhamani had learned to read the apparent seismic catastrophe as a
modest smile. “Only Inheritors of Wiosse knows how. We incorporates Inheritor
subsensors. Now you knows also, Queen.”

“Excellent work, Commander. We are lucky to have you with
us. Though I remind you again that I’m the captain. The name Queen Ranavalona refers to this ship.”

Stone flakes tumbled from Salk’s gritty shrug. Jomokoros
considered a ship and its crew as indistinguishable components of a whole.
Interchangeable and replaceable, but equally critical.

The bright-eyed specialist in applied theoretical physics
bounced excitedly to her feet. “Captain, the Admiralty has standing orders to
secure any and all Praeternaturalist technology, so -”

“For the last time, Lieutenant,” interrupted Commander
Renshaw, “that directive only applies to fleets classified Herculean and above.
We have one ship, not sixty.”

“Oh, right.” Lieutenant Ephram continued with breathless
enthusiasm. “In that case, our sub-light propulsion systems haven’t been
upgraded since our skirmish with the Unkaran Brigands eighteen months ago. I
recommend we disable a Gulthano corvette and scavenge its tri-phase thindrive.
With one of those babies bolted on, we could outrun just about anyone from here
to Andromeda.”

The nods around the table outnumbered the frowns. “Very
well, Lieutenant. Commander Renshaw, assemble a team for tactical analysis. I
want a salvage plan in two hours. And see if you can include options for provoking
one of the alien fleets to pick a fight with the Praeternaturalist vessel. Fleet
Admiralty would kill for some combat data and we have ringside seats.”

“Yes, Captain.”

As the officers filed out, Talakhamani said, “Commander
Quay, please remain for a moment.” She pretended not to notice her departing
senior officers’ furtive exchange of worried looks.

When they were alone, she examined the sweat beading his
brow for a long moment. “Nelson, please sit down. There’s something important
we need to discuss.”

Sweat now gathering in a damp ring around his face, Quay
recited, “To engage hostile alien cultures, to acquire and evaluate alien
technology and protect humanity at all costs.”

“Very good Commander.” Talakhamani waved up a political map
of the galaxy. The small region of human-dominated space was surrounded on all
sides by the red-shaded areas belonging to the genocidally hostile Cha’sorva,
Bittik-Kintti, Sanxescene and dozens of others. “Humanity is under constant
threat of extinction. As you know our only hope is the Magpie Stratagem: to obtain
whatever we can to use against those who would destroy us. Are you aware I
received a personally-coded transmission from Fleet Admiralty, for my sole
attention?”

“Yes. All executive-level orders are routed through the
senior StratOps officer-”

“Did you manage to crack it?”

Quay went quite still. “Captain, unauthorised access to
closed orders is a breach of security protocols. Are you insinuating-?”

“I’ll take it you were unsuccessful then.” She flashed a
hologram of the decoded message between them. Quay’s eyes remained fixed on
Talakhamani.

“Twenty-four hours ago, Grivenari shapeshifters posing as
senior Strategic Operations staff – from your command unit – attempted to open
a wormhole between Fleet Admiralty headquarters in Boston and the centre of the
sun. The attempt failed. StratOps rerouted the wormhole tail to Grivenari Prime
and launched a Bittik-Kintti vortex annihilator through it.”